Authors: Cindy Spencer Pape
Never mind that it was barely lunchtime in Meagan’s reality, she was about to be presented at a major court banquet. This apparently involved dressing like someone out of a stage production of
Sleeping Beauty
. She glanced down at her cleavage, which was on blatant display.
Okay, maybe an X-rated version of
Sleeping Beauty
.
The clothes had belonged to some distant ancestor, but since fashion here hadn’t changed much since the Middle Ages, it didn’t matter. The exquisite confection of a dress looked and even smelled brand new. Magic did have a lot to recommend it as a moth and mildew repellant. It also made alterations a breeze. Sinead had made no bones about the fact that Meagan was far too short and chubby for an elf, especially an elven
lady
, but Meagan couldn’t do much about her size. Sinead could and did, however, modify the length and girth of the garment with a few words and some waves of her hands. Once the clothing met with her approval, she tackled Meagan’s hair, which she brushed and tugged and pinned until Meagan began to fear she’d show up at dinner bald. Finally, Sinead gave a brief nod that seemed to signify, if not actual approval, at least resigned acceptance that this was the best they were going to get.
Sinead made a gesture at the wall and an ornate silver filigree mirror appeared. The surface started out opaque and cloudy, but slowly cleared till Meagan could see her reflection. At least she assumed it was her. The face looked familiar, but she’d never imagined her hair could look like this, not in a million years. And the cream and gold, Cinderella-style ball gown accentuated her curves, sucking in her waist and pushing her breasts up and out, while the low neckline displayed them, right down to the edge of her nipples. It was probably no more revealing than a tank top, but even swathed in yards of fabric, she still felt naked.
“That amulet needs to go.” Sinead’s voice was bored and condescending.
“No!” Meagan’s hand flew up to grasp Elise’s gift before the other woman could remove it. She remembered Elise’s instructions to keep it on at all times, remembered Blaine agreeing that it was a powerful charm. “The amulet stays.”
“It’s all wrong with the gown.”
“I don’t care.”
“Hmmmm…” Sinead eyed it appraisingly and nodded, granting Meagan a hint of a smile. “I see. ’Tis warded. Not a bad thing, that. Let’s try a bit of camouflage.”
While Meagan watched in the mirror, the black silk cord changed into a fine golden chain and lengthened, till the warm green stone disappeared into the bodice of the gown, nestling between Meagan’s breasts.
“Much better.” Sinead gave a crisp nod.
Meagan blinked. “You can actually change silk into gold?”
“Not at all. For a limited period of time, however, I can convince the silk to take on the appearance and properties of gold,” Sinead corrected. “When you wake tomorrow morning, it will have resumed its natural form.”
“This is all way too Cinderella,” Meagan muttered. It got even more so when Sinead blinked in a jewelry case about six inches square and four inches tall.
“Most of what your society believes to be fairy tales have some basis in fact.” Sinead didn’t bother to elaborate. “Now, for your first official function, you’ll need to wear the Rose family regalia.” She waved open the velvet box and withdrew an intricate, glittering crown.
“Coronet.” Sinead apparently read the word out of Meagan’s mind. “The queen wears a crown. Each of the noble houses, however, has a coronet.”
“Whatever.” Damn, she really had to work on shielding her thoughts. As Sinead placed the gemencrusted circlet on Meagan’s head, Meagan was forced to admit that it did make her look nobler. It was magnificent and somewhat intimidating, made of yellow and white gold, with red-gold roses woven throughout and decorated with rubies, diamonds and pearls. When Sinead placed it on Meagan’s head, Meagan could swear the reflection in the mirror actually started to glow.
“Well, no one will be able to deny that you are indeed the rightful heiress.” Sinead’s tone remained completely devoid of expression. “The coronet only re-sizes itself and illuminates for its true wearer.”
Peering into the mirror, Meagan saw that the circlet had gotten smaller and daintier than when Sinead had held it. It was now a much more feminine version of itself.
Sinead waved again and another case appeared. This one was flatter and Meagan was unsurprised when Sinead withdrew a necklace and clasped it around Meagan’s neck. It was a collar-style choker that matched the coronet, with an impossibly large teardrop pearl suspended from the center. The pearl felt warm where it nestled right at the start of Meagan’s cleavage and Meagan couldn’t help wondering what Ric would think about making love to her in the necklace and crown. And nothing else. Her skin flushed and she started to get damp from thinking about it. She was saved from eternal embarrassment only by the fact that she’d managed to throw her mental shields up before she’d let her mind wander. Sinead either didn’t know what Meagan was thinking about, or she was good at ignoring things.
Sinead kept up her steady stream of instructions as they left the apartment and were escorted down the wide marble-lined corridor to the queen’s dining room. Two of the queen’s own guards led the way through the maze of gilt and statuary, while Quinn, Liam and the two wolfhounds brought up the rear. Meagan had to fight the urge to grin at the thought of her own personal entourage.
The whole thing would have been a lot more fun, though, if Sinead would have shut up for even half a second.
“If she tastes a dish and nods, you may proceed. If she frowns, ignore that dish and wait for the server to remove it.”
“I heard you the first six times, Sinead. Don’t eat anything the queen doesn’t like. Don’t speak unless spoken to, don’t dance, don’t laugh, don’t play with matches or run with scissors. I get it, already.”
“Fine!” The elven woman’s mouth pinched shut and she glared down her nose at Meagan. “My lady.”
Meagan used every ounce of willpower she possessed not to roll her eyes and snort.
Remember Catholic school
, she told herself.
You survived nuns with rulers. This
should be a piece of cake.
Except, of course, that at school, no one had been trying to kill her.
Dinner was—well—interesting. Meagan had never seen so much opulent excess in her life. Not even on old reruns of
Dynasty
. The only thing that kept her from hysterical laughter was abject terror. As guest of honor, she was seated right next to Her Majesty, of course. Ric was playing on a small dais away from the table, Aidan hadn’t arrived and Sinead was seated at a different table, so Meagan was on her own in the shark pool. Now she wished she’d paid more attention to Sinead’s instructions.
“I am pleased with your gift. The likeness to the folly on my estate is remarkable.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty.”
“I am also informed that you were able to transport an object with no training whatsoever. Is that also the case?”
Meagan kept her eyes fixed firmly on her plate and nodded again. “It was a life-or-death situation, Your Majesty. I’m not sure I could have done so under normal circumstances.”
“Possibly not. But the feat is nonetheless commendable. I have far more use for both of you alive than dead. My thanks for saving his sorry hide.”
“Not necessary, Your Majesty. I prefer my own hide in one piece, too.” She repressed a giggle, but couldn’t quite stop the grin that quirked her lips up. She hastily took a sip of the wine from her ornately carved silver goblet.
Apparently the queen was in an indulgent mood, because she smiled back. “Understood.” Then she peered at Meagan more intently. “And the bard? Do you prefer him intact as well?”
Uh oh. Meagan swallowed carefully trying not to choke on the wine and set her cup on the snow white tablecloth. This was the minefield she’d been expecting.
She didn’t get the feeling that Llyris was the sort of girl who liked to share her toys. She’d spent half the time Sinead was poking and prodding at her thinking of a response to this exact query.
“Ric has become—a friend,” she admitted. “I’ve come to respect his judgment and, I must admit, he’s no hardship to look at or listen to.” Keep it light, she’d decided. That was the way to play her relationship with Ric. She figured she could admit she enjoyed him, as long as she didn’t let anyone suspect that it went any further than that. Play the role of flaky artist for all it was worth.
“No, he has always proven to be—entertaining company.” The queen’s eyes were narrowed as she regarded Meagan.
Meagan forced herself to look at all the impossibly handsome elves lining the high table and to grin suggestively. “But the scenery here is full of attractions, isn’t it, Your Majesty? A girl could be entertained for quite some time.”
She must have hit it right, because a gleam of approval flickered in Llyris’s icy blue eyes. “Exactly, Lady Rose. I believe you will be a pleasant addition to our court.”
The queen spent the next several minutes being charming. She pointed out various members of the elven nobility and regaled Meagan with amusing anecdotes.
Meanwhile, Meagan couldn’t help wondering which of these faces hid minds ready to wage war on the entire human race. Owen Ferris wasn’t present, thank God. She doubted she was a good enough actress to play nice with him. Also conspicuously absent was the cousin who was next in line for Meagan’s title.
“So the council meeting is tomorrow?” Meagan asked the queen. “Is there anything special I need to know before the meeting? Some sort of oath or special protocol, any of that?”
“You will be thoroughly briefed prior to the session.”
The monarch’s tone turned cold again. “My lord chamberlain intends to meet with you in the morning.”
Meagan shivered. She had no doubt that if she even hinted about voting the wrong way, really bad things were going to happen. She nodded a polite thank you and turned her attention back to her food.
“Will ye go, lassie go…”
Meagan chewed her bland piece of—well, she supposed it was duck or chicken, or some other bird—and suppressed a smile. Without a direct word, Ric was reminding her he cared. After all, no one else in the room would know this was the song he’d sang to her the other night, right before they’d made love. Sure enough, not one of the diners even raised an eyebrow or turned to look at the bard in the corner.
His Meagan was doing him proud. She played the spoiled, slightly ditzy artist to perfection, without making herself look like an idiot. He wished he’d been prepared for the way she looked in full court regalia. Not only was she drop-dead gorgeous in the elaborate ball gown, but seeing the glowing coronet entwined in her flame-colored hair served to remind him that she was utterly out of his league.
He knew she didn’t understand the
mionn
, the vow of loyalty he’d given her that night in her bedroom, but it was the second-strongest oath one of his kind could make.
His life for hers. Hell, she had that anyway. All she’d had to do was smile.
Llyris suspected something was up with him, that was a given. She’d have removed the geas if she didn’t. But it looked like she was accepting Meagan at face value, thank the goddess. So far the others at the table had been at least polite to her, some openly curious about her life in the mortal realm. She was holding her own and Ric couldn’t have been prouder. He couldn’t tell her so, not in so many words. But there were other ways. He strummed his lute and sang the song he’d known for centuries, but would now forever associate with Meagan.
“Will ye go, lassie go…”
After the formal dinner ended, Ric was allowed a brief time to eat in the kitchen of the queen’s apartment, while the diners refreshed themselves prior to the dancing and other entertainment. His mouth full of roast swan, Ric smiled a welcome as another man slid into the chair across from him.
“You called for help?”
Ric nodded and swallowed.
“With what?”
“You’ve heard about the new Lady Rose?” Ric poured another mug of cider, handed it to the guardsman before taking a drink of his own.
“Not being dead or deaf, I’ve heard.” Kieran chuckled and raised his mug to Ric. “Good job on finding her at last. I caught a glimpse in the throne room this afternoon. She’s got guts. Not to mention a nice pair of…” He broke off when Ric’s fist clenched around his throat.
“Sorry.” Ric forced himself to let go.
“Eyes,” Kieran finished hoarsely, with a knowing grin.
“Cute little thing, isn’t she?” He gulped his cider, wary eyes never leaving Ric’s face.
Ric scrubbed his hand across his face. “Shite. I am sorry, Kieran.”
Kieran waved a hand. “No worries. It had to happen sometime, lad, even to you.” He laughed. “Need me to write some poetry, do you?”
Ric laughed back. “No. I was thinking more along the lines of guard duty. Think you can put together a small cadre of volunteers to be assigned to the new arrival? Men you’d trust with your own life—or your mate’s?”
Kieran nodded. “The purists will be trying to put a knife in her back, no doubt about it. Aye, I can round up a team. Myself and Sean to start.”
“No. Not Sean.” Ric could ask his friend to risk his life, but not his son.
“’Tis only for a day, correct?”
Ric nodded. “The ball tonight. Then tomorrow until the hour of the council. I’ll convince the queen it was her idea.”
“Aye, that will be best. I’m off duty for the ball, but I can rearrange plans.” He raised one eyebrow and looked sideways at Ric. “You’ll be guarding her personally through the night?”
“Goddess, I hope so!”
“Well, there’s another layer of defense.” He drained his mug and stood. “I’ll see you at the ball in an hour.”
With that promise, the guardsman left the room as swiftly and silently as he’d entered.
“Well, Cinderella, welcome to the ball.” Meagan shook her head in wonder at the sights and sounds around her. The clothes were for the most part the same ones worn at dinner, but necklines had mysteriously lowered and the men’s leggings had mysteriously tightened, leaving virtually nothing to the imagination, for either gender. Meagan had to surreptitiously check her own gown, to be sure nothing had been modified.